Waiting

Some things in life we do regret. Hollow memories echoing off the cave walls of our skulls. The crossbones of a former you, but in a time almost forgotten. To live in the moment, but one lonely moment has no anticipation. No hope. No chance for redemption. The time that we have not yet held, that waits for us tomorrow, or the next day.

Good things come to those who wait. So is it the time that waits for us to find it, or do we wait for time to show up on our doorstep? Those specific moments that we wait upon, to fulfill our dreams. Are they coming? Does the future exist, as we take these fleeting breaths at this second? It cannot. Time is not an infinite path, constantly moving in every direction, looping in and out of itself for every possibility. It is a path that ends at a steep precipice. Every movement forward should end, invariably, with you falling into the deep darkness, but somehow you find ground beneath your feet, again and again. Until you don’t.

The past exists, but to travel the past paths you must spelunk your way through the spiraling caves of your skull. In some tributaries, your light will travel far and you will rest and mark these halls to make sure you may return here to safety. Others will eat your light and make your way painful and frustrating to have to go through something you already lived. To relive a choice you already made, but not be able to change it. Solid trails that cannot be altered, only forgotten.

Ah! This must be why we must live in the moment. To be thrust from the cave, with a deep inhalation of the sweet, fresh light. To live, and let live. To forget. To hope that time will tell. Tell us it’s ok. That she will take care of us and make our dreams come true. That there’s no time like the present.